Night Sweats

I woke up at 6:12 this morning with a layer of sweat covering me on the coldest night of the year. I woke up with tears in my eyes and my heart racing… This has never happened before. It’s pretty crazy that all the shit that has happened to me over the last 4 years and this has NEVER happened before.

I went to bed at 10:00 last night. I read two chapters of a book that my Mom gave to me a few weeks back (‘The Shack’ … book report when I finish). All seemed normal when I turned out the light around 10:45… I fell asleep within 10 minutes and was off to dreamland. Usually I get up AT LEAST once a night to have my ritual of peeing, cooling my body temperature with some cold water and applying a layer of lip balm, but last night I slept straight through till 6:12.

The Dream:
I am in my sisters old trailor home, but in my mind it is understood that my Mom and Dad live there most of the time and there is wood paneling on ALL of the walls. It looked like a hybrid of the dream Howard Hagen technology lair (cords, equipment, speakers, monitors and crap everywhere) crossed with a Moose Lodge.

Apparently it was Christmas time, because there were children that I felt were related to me EVERYWHERE and there was a hint of Christmas music and coldness in the background… All of a sudden I am sitting by a piano with children surrounding me. I get the ‘time to be a grownup’ feeling I get whenever my nieces are around and a child starts playing the piano… I start singing along with them and feel a smile on my face. “Joy To The World’.

I look at the piano players hands (one of my favorite things to do). They are a little girls hands… I recognize the fingernails… They are Chally’s… A wave of disappear hits me smack in the face.

I IMMEDIATELY begin SOBBING… The children ask “what is wrong Uncle Joe” … I am embarassed and begin to leave the room to find a place to release… I run to the bedroom. There is the outline of a womans body under the covers sleeping… I run to the next room. There is someone on a phone talking… I run to the empty bathroom. Close the door, lock it, fall to my knees and begin crying the way I did when Memere died. The way I did when Pepe died. The way I did when Jack died… The way you cry when someone you LOVE dies… I began to shake and feel it deep in my guts.

I woke up.

At 6:12 this morning I felt something in that dream that I have been wanting to feel ‘for real’ for a long time but have been to chicken shit to feel it. I am not sure I am ready to have those feelings of despair outside of my dreams… I guess my sub-conscience pushed the issue.

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The dream thing made me start to think about this blog a bit. I know that I have not written anything ‘real’ on it for a while now… and I have felt a little bit bad about that, like I have been betraying a friend or something.

Then I started to think about the concept of active and passive friends. ACTIVE friends are people that are (obviously) an ACTIVE part of our life. They don’t need a fucking blog to know what is up with your life because they already know… they know your state of mind. They know when you are going through big moments in your life because they are THERE.

I guess I have very few ACTIVE friends and it seems like the number is shrinking everyday… So here is my solution. I am going to start calling people that I have not talked to in a while. I can’t control who calls me (or doesn’t call me or want to make the time to see me), so it’s pro-active Joe time!

P.S. – Sam and Mist, I AM looking for tickets to NY 🙂